Fidus Achates
by partners.in.crime03
Summary: Just a series of hopefully humorous oneshots about the friendship between different characters. Most involve John and Bobby, and some may be a little AU because they ignore certain aspects of the movies. Tell me what you think. :
1. I'm Not A Saint

John had never liked school, and Math was no exception. He was sure that him being surprisingly good at it was a fluke. The teenager was slouched over his desk, and would've fallen asleep had there not been an incessant buzzing in his ear. The summer heat made the room stifling, even for a pyrokinetic like himself, and he reached for a comfort of his Zippo lighter. The very presence of the lighter made the buzzing augment to an almost unbearable volume, and he felt the offending object being ripped from his grasp.

"John, I asked you a question," Ororo Munroe said sharply, a look of deep exasperation on her face.

"Huh?" he mumbled, barely awake. He decided to pay attention to her, if only to get his lighter back. He felt, and _was_ completely powerless without it, so he didn't think it was quite fair of Ms. Munroe to take it. She didn't need anything in order to manipulate the weather, and he knew some of the cloudier days were the result of her feeling particularly sad that day. "Uh, yes."

"It was not a yes or no question. The correct answer is 24, Mr. Allerdyce."

"Right, 24…" John dropped his gaze to the floor, and winced when he felt an elbow in his side. "What the—" He turned sharply to glare at his best friend, Bobby Drake. Despite the wrathful look John was throwing him, the ice mutant seemed as bright as the sun filtering through the windows. He was used to an irritated John. Anger he could deal with.

"Do you wanna do something tonight? We can go into town."

"Since when does Robert Drake break the rules?" John whispered snidely.

"Since when _doesn't_ St. John Allerdyce—"

"Don't call me that," John cut him off. What had his parents been thinking? He wasn't a _saint_. He cringed at the thought of his classmates knowing he was _St._ John Allerdyce. He wasn't even sure how Bobby knew. _He_ definitely hadn't told him. _Must be the professor_, Pyro thought. _That man knows everything_. He was jolted from his thoughts by the ring of the bell, signaling the end of Math class. More than relieved, John practically jumped out of his chair before remembering that he still had to get his lighter back. He'd have to approach Miss Munroe with caution.

He left the room ten minutes later, Bobby waiting for him patiently, holding his lighter tightly. The shark's smile grinned up at him, sunlight reflecting off of the silver metal. He clicked it open and was instantly calmer, drawing the flame out to form a bird in flight. Bobby watched it flutter around for a second before freezing the winged creature. It thudded clumsily on the red carpeted floor, and John melted it into a puddle. It was a game the two often played, as if to prove who was stronger, more in control. Bobby could make beautiful ice sculptures that glistened, but they couldn't run or fly like John's did. The two friends picked up the pace so that no one would suspect them of ruining the school's carpets.

"Popsicle," John mocked suddenly, as he so often did. Bobby sometimes wondered why John was the way he was, but for now could only think of a comeback.

"…Flame Boy," Bobby threw back lamely. He was already kicking himself for that one.

"Flame Boy's not nearly as funny as Popsicle. I win," the fire mutant said simply, a small smile on his face. They walked back to their room in silence, because John liked it that way and Bobby had nothing else to say.


	2. Wasted

"I hate camping…" John grumbled. The fire the five of them were sitting around was pathetic, and getting smaller by the minute. "Look at this thing! I swear, it's making me colder," the pyrokinetic moaned, shivering dramatically. Even Bobby, the ice mutant, had to admit it wasn't the warmest of nights. A conspiratorial smirk lit up John's face, and after he stared at some dying embers, the fire miraculously came back to life.

"You're not supposed to use your powers, John!" Kitty hissed, looking to Logan for support.

"Hey, it's warm now," Logan reasoned, obviously less mindful of the school rules than Kitty was. Bobby and John smirked when Logan continued, "For all I know, the fire got bigger on its own." He threw on another log for good measure, then sat back down on his sleeping bag. During the summer, most students went home, leaving only Iceman, Pyro, Rogue, Shadowcat, and Wolverine as babysitter. Professor Xavier had suggested he take them camping so that the four students wouldn't lay around the mansion all summer. He wasn't the paternal type, but he lived in the mansion long enough to understand that leaving students like John and Bobby in an empty, very expensively furnished mansion wasn't a good idea. Unfortunately, that meant playing chaperone.

When Scott came back from his vacation with Jean, Logan was going to kill him. The spot he'd suggested to the group was about as wild as it could get (convincing Logan it was some kind of scheme to get rid of him), and the nights were as cold as the days hot. He was just about to curse Cyclops again when he realized their little group was now missing four of its five members.

"Where'd everybody go?" he barked, sniffing the air for their scent. There was an odd combination of cinnamon, snowflakes, flowers, and the fruity gum Kitty had been chewing. "You didn't see them leave?" he said, vaguely aware that he sounded crazy talking to himself. "Relax. They're probably just going the bathroom," Logan guessed, using the answer that meant the least trouble. He would've seemed hopeful if his gruffness had allowed it. _'Well, is that what you really think they're doing?'_ Logan argued internally. If they had been there, he could just imagine Kitty and Rogue looking at each other before breaking into grins.

"No!" they would say.

"Well, this is just great…" Logan mumbled under his breath. "I'm stuck being babysitter and now I've got four renegades on the loose." _'In a highly flammable forest'_, he thought to himself.

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Bobby glanced at his friend nervously when the shark Zippo came out of his pocket. "John, are you sure we should be doing this around so many trees?"

"So maybe a few trees get torched…" John said off-handedly. "What's the big deal? I hear ice isn't that great for trees either," he said sarcastically, drawing the flame out to rest in his palm. John's smirk grew wider, and he pulled something out from behind his back, tossing it to Bobby. His friend looked at it in confusion before it registered. This was Logan's alcohol.

"Dude, are you crazy?" That only seemed to make John happier.

"He's gonna kill us!" Kitty lamented, though with her ability, she'd be pretty safe.

Bobby groaned at his best friend's antics, because _someone_ had to, but his curiosity got the better of him. "How'd you get this?"

"What does it matter? How long do you think it'll be before he finds us?" Pyro said excitedly, and Rogue smiled. As much as she loved Logan, she knew he could be aggressive, and worried about what he would do to Bobby and John once he found them. He wouldn't do anything to her or Kitty, she knew. Stealing alcohol from Logan was no small feat, seeing as he hoarded it like one would treasure, and she thought John was a little crazy for doing so.

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"I'm gonna kill those two…" Logan growled, his claws coming out. _Wait_. His senses alerted him, and he listened.

"Superman." That was Bobby.

"Yeah right! Spiderman would crush Superman…" Judging by John's slurring, there was a slim to none chance in there being enough alcohol left to give Wolverine even a slight buzz. Now that he knew where they were, he felt no need to hesitate in reprimanding them.

"Wolverine!" Bobby greeted amicably, the alcohol having taken away any sense of self-preservation he'd once had.

John winced dramatically at the sight of their teacher, making a face Kitty was sure only he could pull off. "Looks like we're in trouble, Kitten," he smirked, not sound as apologetic as she would've liked.

"And what do you think you're doing?!" Logan declared, more triumphant than angry, as he had finally found his prey.

"We were…satirizing. It's better than it sounds, you know," John said slowly. "Satirizing."

"Nice vocabulary, man," Bobby complimented, giving him a thumbs-up while moving to take another swig. Logan intercepted it, taking a large gulp and feeling instant relief. The two drunken teenagers seemed undeterred, and Kitty and Rogue watched on with amusement. John suddenly became bold, and said, "You've gotta love the effects of alcohol. Long-lasting, fast-acting…it has it all." Logan nodded in agreement before realizing this was one of his sweet, innocent students talking.

"That's it. We're going home," Logan announced.

"Finally," John muttered, no longer slurring. He reached down to pull Bobby up, and Logan felt a flash of annoyance. Had they tricked him?

"Is this some kind of inside joke I'm not a part of? Did April Fools come early?" he ranted.

"Johnny's just a weird drunk," Rogue assured him. "Wasted one second, sober the next."


	3. Detention

"Dude, this is all your fault," John muttered to his best friend, though Bobby could hear laughter in his voice.

"_My _fault?" Bobby growled. "I'm not the one who just _had_ to torch that sweater…"

The pyrokinetic rushed to his own defense. "That was an accident! How was I supposed to know that was Cyclops'? It was like a genocide of color," John scoffed.

"Calm down, John. It's detention, not prison," Piotr laughed.

"With the way Mr. Summers is running it, you could've fooled me…Anyway, that's easy for you to say. You have something to do." He nodded towards the open sketchbook in front of Piotr, a pencil resting in his hand.

Piotr raised an eyebrow, holding up the sketchbook. "Would you like some paper to draw something?"

John shook his head, waving him off. "Nah, my art's terrible. How'd you two get in here, anyway? You two are like saints, or something. Which is annoying as hell, by the way."

Bobby frowned, thinking that perhaps John had been too focused on the flaming garment to realize his friends were standing right behind him, amused until Scott showed up. "We were there when you torched the thing, remember? Guilt by association."

John smirked. "Too bad for you, then. Do you think I can get out of this if I convince Cyclops I was doing him a favor?"

"Not likely," Piotr answered with a smile, not looking up from his drawing.

The clicked of a door being unlocked, and then Scott walked in, barking, "No talking!" John noticed he was wearing another hideous sweater, as though just to spite him. Proving his point, Scott growled, "What, do you want to burn this one too?"

John put on a smile and said sardonically, "Of course not, Mr. Summers." Because he recognized it as a gift Dr. Grey had given her boyfriend the Christmas prior, and if he thought Scott was bad, he knew from experience Jean was ten times worse. Despite how he acted, he really wasn't looking for trouble.

Despite a slightly sarcastic response, John hadn't been abrasive _or_ out of line, which surprised Bobby. He'd been expecting at least a snarky comeback, but the lack of one told him just how desperate John was to leave.

Scott seemed deep in thought at his immaculate desk, everything in its place. He looked up at Bobby, John, and Piotr, as though considering them for a moment, and chuckled. "I have the perfect punishment for you three." _I thought the detention was the punishment,_ John thought. Bobby looked Scott right in the eye, attentive, John leaned forward, pretending to be mildly curious, and Piotr didn't even bother, adding a detail to his drawing with a small smile. "…You're going to do my laundry for a month." Satisfied with himself, Scott submerged himself in the day's newspaper, humming lightly to himself.

John let out a low chuckle once Cyclops wasn't paying attention. "He's gonna regret that."

Piotr frowned. "Why?"

"He said we had to do the laundry. He never said we had to do it _right_."

Bobby understood what his friend was getting at, but wasn't sure if it was a good idea to anger Scott again so soon. "What'd you have in mind? Throwing in a little bit of pink dye along with the detergent?" A classic, really, and something they hadn't tried yet.

A grin spread across John's face. "It's like you read my mind."


End file.
